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Remembering “The Stage”

The Stage Deli was my haunt, usually after the last show business event had ended, or, after I waited for the corner newspaper stand to get the latest Cashbox or Billboard magazine. That was when Max Asnas was still alive and before the building was extended halfway to the 7th Avenue curb to accommodate the new fancy schmancy bar. It was when you could order the corned beef without wondering if it was going to be a good night or a dry night, and when the half-sours were cut long-ways and were the perfect combination of dill pickle and cucumber – not to mention crunchy. Dr. Brown was still in a bottle and the waiters still wore jackets as they extended their patience just long enough for you to order – only, of course, if you did it without a bunch of dumb questions. But, we loved their borderline rudeness and felt we were on the “inside” because we could spout out, “Pastrami on rye, side of potato salad, Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda” with authority, and in one breath, knowing we weren’t wasting his time like those tourists over there.

After Max left, a downward spiral began – one that forced me to frequent the Carnegie Deli occasionally. With guilt. I wanted to remain loyal to the Stage, because I liked its more open ambiance, and still find the Carnegie a bit claustrophobic. Periodically, I’d take friends to the Stage for old times’ sake, hoping somebody had wised up and recreated the quality of old, but I was always disappointed. Still, I liked recounting the multitude of “stories” from my patronage during the “old days” – well, my “old days,” anyway. I fully realized that I was a Johnny-come-lately in the whole scheme of things, but, lucky enough to have come along when there was just enough left to evoke the golden years.

There was always a celebrity sighting – heck, one day I sat with Tony Randall. There were no other seats, and he graciously said, “C’mon. Sit here.” He was warm and friendly, and may have sensed that I was in “the biz” when he extended the courtesy. That’s the way it was then. Who knows, the maître d’ may have authoritatively seated me there anyway! But, it was nicer to think that Tony’s kind invitation was the deciding factor.

Some of my most memorable visits to the Stage were during the wee hours – midnight to 4am area – when the cast of characters was as varied as it was colorful. On any given night, you could be sitting near a celebrity who might have just finished the late show at the Copa (where, as an arranger/conductor, I worked with Don Rickles and Peter Lemongello), or some wise guys, fresh from … well, you didn’t ask. Then there was the assortment of obnoxious drunks, “ladies of the evening,” “gentlemen of leisure,” everyday schlubs, and young guys like me, who just liked a slice of life with his slice of tongue. Yeah, at times it was also a slice of New York that some would call seedy, but it was real, and there was something actually elite about being there.

Recently, I had a rehearsal at 853 Studios, on the east side of 7th Avenue. I was running late, so, I dashed from my cab and rushed directly into the building without analyzing my surroundings. When I emerged, I walked south on 7th. Halfway down the block, between 53rd and 54th, I looked west, and saw it. Number 834 7th Avenue was a forlorn, brick-fronted building that still had the footprint of a business once housed there on the street level. It took a moment for it to sink in – it was the Stage Deli! Or, rather, the ghost of the Stage Deli. I immediately thought, “How long will it be before no one even remembers it was there?” It made me sad. I mean, who remembers Jack Dempsey’s, let alone where it was?

But, the Stage Deli existed, and it was wonderful. ⓒ

***Larry Kerchner is a composer, lyricist, and arranger. A graduate of the Berklee College of Music, Mr. Kerchner is a two-time GRAMMY Award nominee, a voting member of The Recording Academy, and serves on the Board of Directors of The Duke Ellington Center For the Arts. He has written music for the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, radio and television commercials, and is the author of over 300 published arrangements and compositions.

Photos: DrewFriedman.blogspot.com

5 Comments

Aug10

Diane Josepher

I enjoyed your article about The Stage, and also have great memories. My cousin owned it later on. Not sure which I looked forward to more, the gigantic corn beef sandwiches or the possibility of seeing someone famous. As a native New Yorker, I have searched for something comparable in Pennsylvania, but am convinced it doesn’t exist. The wall was full of pictures of my cousin Paul and every celebrity you could think of. It is hard to believe that The Stage is closed. It was truly a symbol of New York City. Thanks to Dennis for posting your article on Facebook.

There was a deli in Philly that, much to my surprise and amazement, was actually right up there with the Stage, Carnegie, 2nd Ave. Deli, or whatever one consideres the standard by which all other delis are judged. It didn’t have the New York ambiance, mind you, but the corned beef was juicy and delicious. It was located in the same building as the recording studio I often used, and I didn’t know what I looked forward to more — the mixing or the noshing! Alas, as it always seems to always with anything good, the building was sold and the deli vanished. But, for a brief moment in time, Diane, Pennsylvania actually had a real deli!

I enjoyed your article. Though not personally connected to or knowing the Stage Deli, so many great places of yesteryear are now gone. Our society has become so fast paced and change oriented. I love reading stories with great nostalgia. Thank you for sharing your memories, Larry.

The Stage!! May it rest in peace. I wasn’t aware that it had closed its doors until very recently, but I, too, have wonderful memories there. As a daughter of a man in the biz (maybe you know him?) and a kid in the biz myself, my old man used to bring me to the city very frequently. Of course, The Stage was a consistent staple of our trips. He started my, shall we say, “Deli Appreciation Education” at a young age and I don’t ever remember NOT knowing how to order my sandwich. As an adult, I still place that same “corned-beef-on-seedless-rye-side-of-potato-salad-Dr-Brown’s-cream-soda” order, verbatim. What can I say? The man has good taste! It must be in our blood 😉

Thanks for sharing your memories, Dad! And don’t worry – we can always grab a sammich from Carnegie, sit outside of where the Stage used to be, play “The Way We Were” on our smart phones, and remember…

I was fortunate enough to have experienced the Stage Deli with Larry Kerchner and many other talented people that made it a regular stop before going home. What Larry did in depicting this landmark restaurant is incredible. Reading his reflections makes one feel as if he or she was actually sitting there again, hearing the obnoxious waiters rush you through your order, acting annoyed and impatient as if they somewhere better to be or more important to do.
Kerchner ( who is one of the greatest arranger-composers the world has ever produced) makes it more than just a story, he makes it a mini-movie for anyone who ever entered the famed Stage Deli on 7th Avenue. His next work should be a Show Biz Book…
Peter Lemongello